Brain.exe Has Stopped Working
My brain during exams is not a brain. It’s a crowded railway station where no thought arrives on time.
The moment the question paper touches my desk, my brain exits the building.
Until yesterday, it was confident.
Bold.
Even motivational.
“I’ve studied enough,” it said.
Lies. Pure lies.
The syllabus I studied for weeks decides to go on vacation. Meanwhile, the one topic I skipped returns confidently—front page, bold letters, as if it paid extra to be noticed.
Inside the exam hall, my brain becomes noisy.Thoughts rush in without order. Important answers stand at the door, confused, while random memories walk straight in without permission.
Suddenly, my brain remembers everything—except the answers.
Lyrics of a song from 2012? Crystal clear.
What I revised yesterday?
Gone. Like my motivation.
Inside my head,
one voice says,“You know this.”
Another says, “You have never seen this in your life.”-Both are lying with confidence.
The syllabus I revised carefully now feels unfamiliar.
As if I borrowed someone else’s notes and never returned them.
My brain flips pages faster than my hand.
Reads questions.
Panics.
Rereads the same line, hoping it will change out of sympathy.Time moves differently in the exam hall. Five minutes feel like five seconds. Five pages feel like five lifetimes.
My pen writes slowly, as if it’s also stressed and reconsidering its career choices.
Somewhere between Question 2 and Question 3, my confidence drops silently under the desk. I try to pick it up, but my brain says, “Let’s just write something.”
And so, the answers begin—not logically, but emotionally.
When the bell finally rings, my brain wakes up. Answers appear. Perfect sentences form. Beautiful introductions. Strong conclusions.
Too late—obviously.
I walk out pretending I did well, nodding wisely, while my brain whispers softly, “We could’ve done better…but panic was stronger.”
